The sun fairly shines
But the world isn't one
And you wonder why

Of all the places,
All the people,
It has to be in paper

You could pour your heart out
And bleed your pens
With thoughts imprisoning you

It has to be the paper
That hears your complain and growing pain
For you were never heard

Of all the people,
It has to be pillows and blankets
Who calms your raging soul

In the midst of self-battle,
And screaming fears
Wanting to be freed

With lullabies,
Rare lullabies of pessimistic thoughts
Keeping your young soul awake

As the canvas of obscurity outside your window pane
Signifies the life you never wished
For you were always never heard

Blade fills your empty hand,
When criticisms fill your ears

Breaming tears fill your eyes,
When your heart was crashed

Medicine fills your mouth,
When it's tired saying lies, "I'm fine" "I'm okay" "I got this"

And you swam in sea of confusion,
Asking, "did the Dementors sucked the happiness out of me?"
Shouting, "help me!"
But you were never heard

Of all the places,
All the people,
They're the dementors you never expected to suck the life out of you

Trying to live your best,
When your heart isn't at rest
Like there's a knot in your chest

Trying to function,
When your body's exhausted
From society's expectation

And living like a prey
Of a predator-like darkness
Wrapped with cloak of anxiety

Everyday rolls,
Clock ticks fast
The monster inside you has been horridly growing

Eating every sanity it could,
Driving you mad
For you were never heard

You werr never heard
Of the things you wanted to get off of your mind
Of the sadness lurking within

And sweetheart, I'm telling you,
You are too brave for carrying the burden alone,
You are too strong for fighting your own battles,

But you do not have to that,
You could reach out,
Seek help,
And be heard,

Because it weren't always
Paper and pens,
Pillows and blankets
Blades and medications

For you were an art,
Rare and beautiful